


Melting Popsicles

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coming In Pants, M/M, Popsicles, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, footjob?!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're in the back of the impala waiting for their Dad in the sweet Nevada heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melting Popsicles

They're in the back of the impala waiting for their Dad in the sweet Nevada heat. They're almost touching, Sam's knee keeps brushing up against Dean's and it's sending shivers up his spine. There's a soccer ball discarded in the footwell that Sam keeps rolling under his foot, and he's making obscene slurpy noises, lips stretching and curling around a melting popsicle. Leave it to Sam to choose the pink one, ("it's because strawberry's my favorite!") Dean always bugs him about being too girly but this is something else. His whole mouth is pink, especially the glimpses Dean keeps getting of its interior, almost verging on sinful red, puffy lips glistening. They're wet and almost dripping with juice. Dean imagines the flavor, sweet, so sweet, cold of the treat mixing in with Sam's warm saliva. He wants to at once lick it all up and toss the thing in his mouth out the window so Sam would shut the fuck up already.

Sam's slouching into Dean now, sweat on both their arms so rich they're not even sticking, just gliding and slipping. Sam's oblivious, practically moaning around the thing, sucking it in greedily and breathing hard through his nose. It keeps dripping down his fingers and Sam licks that up too, tongue poking through swollen lips to make sure his fingers stay clean. Dean feels like he's in the armpit of hell, heat in the air and in his body so heavy he can feel himself physically sinking down. He pushes Sam off him and it could be explained away by the fact that he's too hot to desire the mingling of their body heat, but it's really to hide his obvious erection that's threatening to tent his shorts. He adjusts himself before Sam has a chance to glance over, cock trapped and straining.

It's too late though, and Sam has never been anything less than sharp-witted, because he's noticed for sure and now he's grinning around the thing, pink mouth twitching up in apprehension. One leg folds up on the seat, swaying a little suggestively, his back resting up in the corner between the seat and the window. He just watches Dean for a while but Dean hides it so well that the look on Sam's face sinks like he thinks he got it all wrong.

But then, like he's testing something out, his tongue snakes its way between parted lips and licks long and slow up the phallic treat, starting at the bottom and gliding all the way up. At the tip, he dips his tongue and swivels it around like he's tickling it, teasing.

Dean groans, whole body nearly convulsing, _wanting_ to convulse. He's right on the edge, and Sam knows, Sam's _playing_ with him.  

Sam slurps loudly, lips closing around the thing and Dean watches it disappear between them as he takes it deep. The pink is dripping down, flowing over his fingers now but he doesn't seem to care anymore.

Dean shuts his eyes tight, whole body about to erupt, too overheated and far gone to even remember that it's _Sam_ that's doing this to him, his goddamn little _brother_.

Dean hears Sam moan around it all high-pitched, he's pretending he's a girl, Dean could tell, like this is all amusing to him. He's too young to care about what he's even doing or consequences, and Dean admires that. Is envious of that innocence. If he still had it, he'd give in and stroke his cock until he came, hard and thorough and _just what he needs_ and they'd both laugh. But he lost it a while ago, the first time he came thinking about sinking himself into another live person, and so he isn't about to give in to his teenage body's sex drive in front of his brother.

But then he feels something nudging up across his thigh and his eyes shoot open. Sam's foot is crawling up in his lap, gently rubbing. It hurts because it's so good, Dean's suffocating in the need to finally be brought over the edge, his eyes watering at the corners. Dean absently thrusts his hips up into Sam's foot and his toes work him down and up, finding the shaft and manipulating it expertly. Dean practically sobs, looking over, and Sam's smiling a little but he has this dark look in his eye too, reassuring. He's still holding the popsicle, wetness dripping down over each of his fingers, a few stray drops sinking into his clean, white t-shirt. Dean wishes they weren't wearing anything at all, wants to get Sammy out of that sticky shirt and those black soccer shorts almost as much as he wants to come. He wants to lick the sugar out of Sam's wet, pliant mouth and suck on his tongue until he tastes nothing but _Sam_ and he'd be happy if that took a while.

Sam rubs with his heel now, a little faster and Dean clutches at the seat because he feels it coming. Sam slurps on the popsicle a final time like he _knows_ that's what's gonna get Dean there, and Dean loses it.

It's almost pathetic when he comes so he tries not to make any noise but fails significantly, spilling in his pants and cursing under his breath. He feels the hot come soaking through his boxers as he convulses, sticky wetness pushing out more and more against Sam's toes.

And all too soon Sam's foot is gone, retreating and folding up towards his body again, and Dean's still seeing white.

Dean feels like he's melted and turned to goo. It's all he can do to blink his eyes open and turn his head towards Sam, who's got his mouth back around the popsicle and is grinning again, like he's never been more satisfied with himself in his life. It is arguably the most irritating and erotic thing Dean thinks he's ever seen.

Dean reaches over and tears the thing from his mouth, tossing it out the window. It's too late now and they both know it, he's already been defeated, but Sam still says "hey!" and frowns at the loss.

Dean isn't even able to clean himself up because their Dad returns and starts the car and they're on the road again. He sits with his shame, trying not to think about _other_ things Sam can stuff his mouth with until they reach the next pit stop en-route to a different state.

**Author's Note:**

> cause I was eating one and this is where my mind went afterwards.  
> Also, I tried to present-tense ?


End file.
